An anecdote from my train ride to Giverny.

I had a nice morning cab ride over to La Gare Saint-Lazare last Sunday morning. It was Mother’s Day in the States, and as I said in my earlier post, I was treating myself to this little get-away for la bonne fête de mères.

Le chauffeur and I had a jovial ride/chat. He didn’t speak English, so it was another opportunity for me to practice my French. It was wonderful, riding along chit-chatting — being understood! Lol! It wasn’t long before we’d reached the station. He said I could enter through the “dome” descending into the building, or enter through the doors above ground. I opted for the interesting “dome” entrance but when I asked around, I was told no, I should go back upstairs, exit the building and enter through the other doors.

Hey, I had a 50/50 shot.

What a beautiful station. Quite modern. Immaculate. And very automated. It was like being in an enormous mall — but trains pulled in here and there. I followed signs to “Giverny,” and reached area “J” which listed destinations including “Giverny.” But… I had questions. I wanted to be absolutely sure.

I didn’t see any signs for Accueil (Welcome/Assistance), so I asked the woman who was working in the boulangerie (bakery) stand if she could help me. She said sure, and asked to see my ticket. I handed her my phone since my ticket was digital. She said I needed to go through the next set of turnstiles — very nearby, for the Normandy-bound trains. D’accord. Okay!

At this moment, I still don’t know why that “J” area listed Giverny.

I checked the arrival/departure monitors and didn’t see my train listed. I finally found a gentleman who told me the train would pull up into one of the nearby spots, and the track number would soon appear on the board. Sure enough, that’s what happened.

Suddenly, a lot of us were moving toward the train. I had purchased a first-class ticket online, as it was very inexpensive, but there was no one checking tickets as we boarded, so I had no idea where to go. The doors were ready to close, so I quickly took a seat which was in a very open space area with tons of leg room. Why? It was next to the exterior doors. This was definitely more steerage than first class, but what the heck, I was comfy, I said to myself. After a few minutes, I asked the guy next to me “Do you know where I am “supposed to be,” showing him my ticket. He was not French, but he kindly checked my phone, and said “Oh, you have a first class ticket? Yes, I said, but, I don’t know where that is. “Everywhere,” was his reply. I decided to just smile and stay put.

Soon the ticket checkers came through the car and they never looked at ours. They went directly upstairs. That’s when I heard one of them say that “…upstairs was for first class ticket holders only.” She was very kind. Soon after, two young gentlemen came downstairs and looked for seats on the lower level. I thought….oh, that’s what my neighbor meant. First Class is upstairs — everywhere, as in every car. Hmmm….

My neighbor got off the train at the next stop. And that’s when I noticed for the first time the sign “First Class” with an arrow pointing up the stairs. OMG. I decided to check it out, even though I had this huge space to myself. I was curious and wanted to see the views because down low you couldn’t see anything in the distance.

When I’d first boarded, I headed upstairs right away, but everything seemed full. I was between two women who wanted to be together, so I awkwardly backed down the steps with suitcase in hand to allow them to stay paired. That’s when I decided to just take a seat downstairs.

You know, the first time you do anything is weird and awkward — especially when you’re alone, trying to figure things out. I think my blog proves this. But I digress.

Still interested in checking out the “FIrst Class” views, I made my way upstairs and took a seat. My window had a weird texture, so I couldn’t see anything! The seat in front of me was the same, so I didn’t move. It felt too weird to go back downstairs, so I stayed put. There was a guy behind me, and his window was the same as mine. The only clear window was on the opposite side of the car catty-corner from me, and it was occupied by an elderly couple who seemingly could not care less about the views.

Then suddenly, the couple got up. It was their stop! Oh, here’s my chance, I thought. They went downstairs and I made my move. I sat in their row at the big window. And OMG I’m so glad I did this. We hadn’t started to move yet, but I looked out and was so thankful to have a clear window because I read the sign outside and it said “Giverny.” It was my stop!!!

I grabbed my suitcase, went down the stairs full speed and hopped off the train!